Hell Raisers
by SpeakThroughWriting
Summary: Why is it that Alastair and John can both control their most prized possession? Dean has a decision to make; where exactly does he stand?
1. Reacquainting

"Dean..." John's voice sounded broken. "Please, let me in."

"D-" Dean stood at his motel room window, phone in hand. Disbelief contoured every feature on his face as he gazed at a silhouette meters away. "Dad?" His lips were set in a grimace. This had to be a joke. A sick, twisted joke.

"Yes Dean. It's me. Please let me inside."

"Who are you? Why are you pretending to be my father?" His voice was hurt and vulnerable.

"It's me Dean! I came back, just like you." His voice trailed off. John's form was covered in dirt and his hands were bloody. "I had to dig myself out of my own grave." He looked at his hands in sheer explanation, "Please let me in."

Dean shook his head, hoping to find that he was just having another hallucination of his father. The image still stood before him, however, once he looked back out into the dimly lit parking lot. "How do I know it's you?"

"How could you doubt me?"

Dean frowned then walked to the padlocked door, unbolting it slowly. He held a flask of holy water in his hands; salt was spread across all entrances into the small room. If anything, his father was possessed. "Dad.." Dean whispered to his father as the man outside slowly made his way closer to the doorway.

"Thank you Dean." John smiled a tired smile. "Here," He carefully took the water from the boys hand then drank from it.

Dean gave him a shocked look then nodded, "Come in." His voice was still plagued in disbelief.

John smiled at his son then gave him a rib crushing hug. "I missed you so much."

Dean felt tears roll down his cheeks then hugged his father back. "I missed you too. You have no idea how much."

John looked at his son, his voice turning gruff. "How've you and Sammy been holding up?" He paused, then added, "Where is he?"

"He's around somewhere… He and I have been quite distanced lately." Dean shrugged, trying to change the subject.

'_I know' _John's thoughts sounded sly in his mind but he spoke in a sad tone. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Dean forced a smile, and then invited his father inside to clean up and have something to eat. "You can stay here, if you like."

"Thanks son."


	2. Respect

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural... Sadly enough. **

_Thanks to 67impalalover for helping me organize my thoughts and write them down. _

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**R-E-S-P-E-C-T**

John walked out of the small motel bathroom, all blood and dirt washed from his now clean body. Dean sat upon one of two beds before him glancing up at his father in disbelief.

"Don't look _too _happy to see me, son."

Dean gave him an awkward glance then smiled nervously, "Sorry."

"No problem." John fidgeted. Dean's clothing covered his body and he felt constricted in the 'youngsters' attire._ I'm going to have to acquire some new clothing, _he thought to himself. John ignored his thoughts then continued on, "Can I use the Impala?"

"Technically she is yours..." Dean frowned then pulled a single key from his pocket, "Where are you going?"

"Thanks." He turned and headed for the door, ignoring his son's protests.

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"_I'm waiting." _

_Thoughts raced through John's mind, urging him to hurry. _

"I'll be there in a second." He muttered to himself, slid into the drivers seat of the Impala, then let the ignition start smoothly.

"Hey there gorgeous." He patted the dash gently, "Nice to see you again."

Almost as in response the engine revved a cry of rejoice. The duo was soon to be unstoppable.

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"Alastair." John nodded his head in greeting to the impatient form standing before him.

"John." Alastair too bowed his head in greeting. "Have you talked to him yet?"

John smiled. "Who? Dean?"

"Yes."

"Not yet. I've barely spoken to him since my return. He needs to be brought back to our world slowly."

Alastair looked at John in almost-disgust and spat on the floor, "Dean knows that the world isn't filled with happiness and perfection. He's been trained by me before. He knows his place. If you're not going to demand respect from the kid I'm going to teach him a lesson or two about knowing his status. He needs to choose who he's working for, John." Alastair paused then smiled, "Wait. We're not giving him a choice." He laughed sadistically.

John laughed a long, trying to hide a dim flicker of pain surging through his body.

"_Stop it," he thought to himself. "Dean's a big boy now. He makes his own decisions.. He's going to choose us. He will. We aren't hurting him, we're benefiting him" _

"You're right. He does need to make his decision. Soon… But give me a few days to talk to him, to convince him that his future is in our hands. Dean needs guidance, he always has."

"Three days John, three. If you don't have him under your control, he'll be under mine."

John nodded.

"You can go now." Alastair's laugh echoed through a small warehouse room that John was left standing in. His head was pounding and knees were weak.

"Sometimes I hate being someone else's puppet." He muttered incomprehensible things to himself then made his way out of the run down building.

"Time to go 'home' hon." John gently closed the Impala door behind him and headed back towards the motel. "Now it's time for the dirty work to start." He sighed.

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**Please R+R (:  
**


	3. Unholy Confessions

**Disclaimer:**** Blah blah blah. I don't own any of these characters. Eric Kripke does. **

**My title is from a song, yes. I give Avenged Sevenfold full credit for the title of this chapter.**

**Warning: **** There is foul language and somewhat graphic scenes in this chapter. Don't read if you can't deal with that. **

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**Chapter 3:**

**Unholy Confessions**

"I gave in to him. Even though he disgusted me, I gave in." Dean stifled a sob then went on, his face turning solemn. "I remembered you telling me to never give in. Your voice always filled my mind when I felt weak. You helped me fight through thirty years of that sadistic bastard's torture." Dean spat on the ground, "I feared for Sammy while I was on the rack. Always thought about whether or not he was okay…" A pitiful laugh filled the small room. "I didn't care what Alastair did to me. All I cared about was Sammy's safety. I can't believe I gave in to him..." Dean softly muttered to himself, remorse filling his voice.

"You did what you had to son, I forgive you." John placed his hand on Dean's shoulder but it went unnoticed. Dean's eyes darkened as he continued on.

"The first soul I had to torture… She was new. Just brought to the pit of filth I had to live in for decades. Her tear filled eyes really got to me, you know? She just kept whispering about how she didn't deserve the pain I was about to deliver to her. Her pleas drove my anger off the wall. Who was she to say what she deserved? Hell, the pain she was experiencing was nothing, _nothing. _She didn't know what pain was." A deep breath separated details before Dean once more continued, "I got to show that bitch a little more about what hell was every time she begged me to stop 'hurting her'. She should have been thankful that I was her torturer, not my dear _friend _Alastair." Dean paused, remembering his own time on the rack. "Do you know how creative one can get after torturing the same soul for decades?" He laughed. "Alastair spent the first few years letting me hear others' screams. He let me watch flesh be torn from the bodies of others' until I broke down and begged for him to stop." He smiled, "I never have been good with handling others' pain. After having screams of others etched into my mind for years I finally broke down and begged for Alastair to just torture me instead. I can't begin to describe the sickening smile that filled that bastards face when I begged for him to tear my body to shreds rather than the girl before me. She couldn't have been more than twelve, at the most. Watching such a young child be exposed to damnation as she was drove me insane. Hell, I didn't even mind having flesh slowly torn from my arms, exposing muscles and unbroken veins beneath. I laughed at the pain.. For thirty years I laughed." Dean coughed, trying to clear his throat from the emotions building up inside of him. "I'm sorry for giving in to him dad. I'm sorry."

John pulled his son into a hug, whispering soothing words to calm his eldest child. "It's not your fault Dean. I had to experience hell, too." His voice was gruff. "I gave in after fifteen years, fifteen. You're much stronger than I. You always have been."

In response to his dad's confession Dean clutched onto the older man tighter, afraid he would disappear once more at any second. "It's not your fault either, Dad. Alastair makes people snap. That's his job."

"I know it is Dean. I know." John sighed then pulled away from his son, "I have a confession to make, however."

Dean looked into John's eyes evenly and waited.

"I miss torturing souls. I almost felt complete, hearing others beg me to spare them pain." He frowned, "Who has had to deal with more pain than you or I have Dean? Hm? No one. You lost your mother... I lost my wife. God only knows how much I miss her. Why can't we ever get a break? Life on Earth just weakens us Dean. It kills us inside and leaves us vulnerable. Being in hell torturing others… It's almost like a dream come true. For me, torturing others makes me feel accomplished. Why can't the rest of the world know what pain _really _feels like? Every soul in hell is there for a reason. Each god damn person on the rack hurt someone else." He paused and looked into his sons darkening eyes. Dean swallowed then nodded, "It's better to teach souls a lesson than to let killers run away with out any remorse, isn't it?" John laughed, "It's amusing to see how easily someone who tore apart another's life breaks down when they're faced with any amount of pain themselves." John smiled. "You can judge me however you like Dean. I'm just telling you the truth here. Being in hell taught me some things… I've learned that pain is one of the best teachers. Souls being tortured deserve every scream that you and I have pulled from their lungs. Don't tell me you don't agree, hell punishes you in the most righteous of ways imaginable. Hell has shaped me into a more understanding, well-rounded man." John finished his speech then looked at his son's blank expression.

"I.." Dean paused, confusing easily showing on his face. He seemingly replayed his father's words in his head as a darker veil clouded over his body. "I miss torturing souls too. I miss their screams. I miss being in control." He bit his lip then continued, "I want to teach those sick bastards on the rack what it really feels like to be remorseful for your actions."

A slow clapping from behind him startled Dean. He turned quickly to see an all-too-familiar lopsided grin on the body of a middle aged man.

"Alastair." Dean barely managed to whisper his old 'bosses' name before falling weakly to his knees.

"Hey Dean-o. I've missed you too." He smiled then laughed darkly, "I have a feeling that the three of us are going to be great friends."

Dean nodded in reply before having black spots blot out his vision. His unconscious form fell to the ground as Alastair smiled once more.

"I never realized that you could give such an inspirational speech, John." He clapped the older man on the shoulder proudly. "Let's get to work."

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**I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I'll try to update more frequently, I've just been having extreme writer's block lately! **

**PLEASE R+R!!!I really want to know if readers are enjoying the fic so far. Let me know so I can decide whether or not to continue writing!**


	4. Here Comes The Pain

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own any of these characters. Eric Kripke does. **

**I give Slayer full credit for the title of this chapter.**

**Warning: **** There is foul language and somewhat graphic scenes in this chapter. Don't read if you can't deal with that. **

**Chapter 4:**

**Here Comes the Pain**

The room surrounding him was dark, like every other in hell. The sounds of distant screams could be heard echoing down corridors; these cries for help made the young man internally cringe. Closing his eyes, Dean pretended he was somewhere, anywhere, else.

Alastair smiled a big, toothy, grin as his favorite candidate let out a groan of pain. "Good Dean-o. It's about time you let me know how you were feeling." Alastair continued to wrap barbed wire tightly around Dean's arms, whistling a chipper tune. "Who needs rope or chains when barbed wire can fixate a person perfectly for you?"

Dean grimaced and spat on the floor, "Fuck you."

"And here I've been sitting, thinking John's inspirational speech knocked some sense into your head. What is all of this resistance for?" Alastair's amused expression quickly turned to a frown. He glanced downward then glared at the younger man. "Dean-o! Did you just try to spit on my shoe? You're lucky you missed." He gave the barbed wire one last tug, making sure it was taut, then shrugged, "Still, I suppose this means I need to teach you some respect." He sighed, turning on his heel. His soft foot steps left the room in a brisk manner.

It was only a few moments before the sound of wheels rolling across pavement was audible. A soft click followed Alastair's re-entry into the small room; a small, black cart was situated in front of Dean within seconds. A top the cart sat a razorblade, three knives, a small pile of nails, as well as a hammer. Dean's hardened face eyed the weapons; he found the glint of light coming off of them almost mesmerizing. "That's all you've got?" Dean looked at Alastair smugly.

Alastair glanced up at the younger man then returned his attention back to the weapons before him. He picked up one of the knives carefully; his grasp on it was perfect. Slowly he brought the blade to Dean's body, applying a firm, steady pressure to allow the metal to slice through his unmarked chest. "You know, I've been thinking. If you were to stay on the rack for a few decades, I could get quite creative with you." Slowly he dragged the cold metal down Dean's body, leaving a trail of blood to make its way to the floor. "Surely after that time you'd even relearn that I love to hear you scream in pain. Self expression is beautiful, Dean-o." Quickly he lodged the knife into Dean's abdomen and twisted it around. A few gasps came from Dean as a shudder passed through his body. Alastair frowned.

"You're a sick son of a bitch."

Leaving Dean without a reply, Alastair turned to pick up a razorblade. "You know what a fun game is, Dean-o? Hangman. Want to play?" he waited for Dean to reply. "I'll take the silence as a yes!" Alastair let a big toothy grin show, "There are only two words. Let's start guessing letters!"

"Fuck you." Dean glared at the demon before him, and twisted his body in a useless attempt to break free of the rack. He hissed in pain as the barbed wire holding him bit deeply into his flesh; blood dripped from the wounds on his arms steadily.

"Sorry, son. No F _or U_. Try again!"

Dean remained silent waiting for Alastair's new, twisted game to be over. Alastair turned his back to Dean and moved towards his cart full of 'toys', as he liked to call them, and picked up a handful of nails and a hammer.

"Are you sure you don't want to pick a letter son?" he paused, "No reply? Okay."

Slowly Alastair positioned a nail to the younger mans palm then hit it once with the hammer. Dean let out a gasp of pain as his torturer moved to his other palm. Another nail went swiftly through his body; Dean bit his lip.

"You know, I could get a lot more creative with you if I wanted..." Alastair hammered a nail into each of Dean's feet, making him completely immobile. Being unsatisfied with Dean's silence, Alastair continued to pound nails into Dean's legs. The younger man groaned in pain as blood began to coat his skin. Still Alastair continued, purposefully missing nails in order to shatter bones in Dean's legs.

"A!" Dean's voice came out silently in a hiss of pain.

"What was that?" Alastair kept position nails then pounding them into his body, pretending he didn't hear the soul before him pleading.

"A!!" Dean raised his voice and nearly spat out the letter in disgust.

"Very good. There _are _three A's." Alastair turned, setting down his hammer and nails then picked up a razorblade. "Let's get to work."

Slowly he carved a capital A followed by two lowercase ones across Dean's chest. They were unevenly spaced apart, leaving room for more letters to be carved.

Dean grimaced in pain as the older demon looked at him expectantly. "Just write whatever you want to god damn write. I don't care."

Alastair smiled, seeing that Dean was starting to be defeated. "Was that the sound of Dean giving in?"

"I don't want to play your games." Dean let out a small chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing." He laughed once more, and then coughed up blood as he received a swift blow to his ribs. "Ugh." He groaned then explained, "I nearly told you to go to hell."

Alastair's expression was blank. He shook his head then began to carve letters ever so carefully into Dean's torso. Minutes later, he stepped back to admire his handiwork. Across Dean's chest in bloody letters read "Alastair's Property."

Dean tilted his head down in attempt to see what the older demon was grinning at. "What?" His voice was dark.

"You're my property! Oh Dean, now everyone will know what a great bond we have. Isn't that wonderful?"

"You son of a.."

"Now, now, now. You know having a temper isn't a good thing. Besides, that's no way to speak to your father."

"You aren't my father."

"You're my son."

"No." Dean's voice was filled with hate.

"Yes Dean-o. You and I, we're alike. You're so much like me it's crazy. Almost like a reincarnation of me. You're my son. Maybe not by blood, but by heart. Even your body says that we're one together.

"You're wrong. I'm nothing like you."

"No Dean. I'm right. Don't you remember when you and I stood side by side? I remember how much you loved working with me. You face lit up every time you held a knife in your hand. You were one sadistic little bastard. My greatest student." Alastair smiled, pride showing in his features.

"That was a mistake." Dean's face crumpled, his perfectly composed features finally broke.

"No it wasn't. Hell, you even enjoyed hearing a girl's screams who couldn't have been more than twelve. I remember her begging you to stop. You laughed. Don't you remember? You spent an extra long time making sure her body was completely mutilated. Unrecognizable. I would imagine she would be a soul you would remember."

"Stop it."

"Hundreds, maybe even thousands of souls... You perfectly destroyed them all. Dean-o, you may be fighting me now, but you won't be for long. You're still my favorite student. You will rule by my side once more, I'll make sure of it."

Dean remained quiet as Alastair turned. He picked up another knife gingerly then stabbed it into Dean's chest and dragged it downward. A 3inch deep cut ran from his chest to stomach, releasing inner organs. Alastair twisted the knife then slowly pulled it out of Dean's body as he screamed in pain.

Alastair smiled, "I'll see you tomorrow son."

***

"Where is he? Where is Dean?" John's questions were plagued with worry as Alastair walked up to him casually.

"He's fine. Don't worry. You'll see him once he's reacquainted with everything here. He needs to be retrained, John. Don't you remember what you were like when you first came here?"

John quietly looked over Alastair, eyeing the traces of blood that decorated his body. "I remember." He nodded in agreement to the demon.

"Good. Now get back to work. You need to be well practiced if you're going to carry out your task. We're all counting on you John."

He turned quietly and disappeared from Alastair's sight. Alastair smiled a slow, menacing smile, and then vanished as well, leaving an eerie silence behind.

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**Please R+R!! Comments make me happy! (: **


	5. Hell Awaits

**Disclaimer:**** Well… You know. **

**---Giving Slayer credit for my title---**

**Hell Awaits**

"Rise and shine, gorgeous!" Alastair's voice was spoken barely above a whisper into Dean's ear.

A soft groan came from Dean before his body patched itself together. The only proof of the boy's flesh being mutilated moments before was a dark scar reading "Alastair's Property" across his torso.

"Have you considered my offer yet?" Alastair's eyes shone brightly as he smiled at the man before him.

"I won't work for you." His reply was brief, monotonous, and filled with hatred.

"Fair enough." The demon turned on his heel and walked out of the dimly lit room without any further conversation.

***

Alastair walked through a narrow doorway leading to John's 'room'. "John?"

Shuffled noises sounded before he received a reply, "Come in."

Alastair entered the room slowly, surveying an assortment of weapons across John's bed. He raised his eyebrow though asked nothing about the man's display. "Are you free today?"

"I was supposed to see our latest intruder... That new hunter who stumbled upon our place... Jace? He can wait though."

Alastair nodded. "I have a new project for you."

John looked at him, waiting for more information.

"Bring your tools and creativity. Follow me." He walked out the door, not waiting for the sound of footsteps behind him.

***

John followed Alastair into one of the many dim rooms of the warehouse; the smell of sweat and blood was pungent as soon as he passed the doorway. A flicker of light made its way down through the room, revealing a young man bound by barbed wire to a cross-like structure. Thin trails of blood made their way down his body; his head was tilted towards the ground.

"Your new project." Alastair smiled cruelly, looking towards his student.

"You-" He paused trying to find words that wouldn't upset the demon before him, "Want me to torture my own son?"

Dean gazed at the two men in front of him, silently muttering curses to himself.

"Dean isn't cooperating with me. Right now you're my best student, John. You taught your boy how to manners while raising him but it seems he's forgotten his proper placement. He needs to learn to follow you again. This boy no longer has any respect."

John shook his head. "I can't"

Alastair glared daggers at him, "You can and WILL do what I say."

"No-"

"DON'T YOU DARE DISRESPECT ME!" Alastair cut off his sentence then threw John to the concrete floor violently.

John looked up the demon then glanced at his son before turning his face into a mask. "I'll get to work then."

"Good."

John faced to turn his grim looking son, stood up, then walked slowly towards a set of knives. Behind him, Alastair slipped out of the doorway and shut the door softly.

***

"Dad. What are you letting him do to you?" Dean looked at his father, almost pleading with his eyes.

"Alastair's right. You have become a coward. No coward is a son of mine." John looked at his oldest son disapprovingly.

Dean expression was twisted in pain. Thoughts in his mind swirled around the realization that he had let down his father… Again.

"Look at yourself. Pleading not to be hurt? Since when is pain a problem for Winchesters?" John picked up a paring knife and walked towards his son. "You've become soft since I left. It's no wonder so many people have died while under your watch."

Dean hung his head in shame. "I'm sorry."

"No you aren't. You will be by the time I'm done with you, though." John plunged the knife he was grasping deep into Dean's side, twisting it around viciously. Dean thrived in pain, violent spasms running all down his body. "If you're my son, you better live up to your name."

Dean gasped for breath as another knife was lodged into his body. It fit snugly in between two of his ribs, protruding only 2 inches from his side. "Yes… Sir."

John turned his back, deliberating on which weapon to use next.

"Excellent." Alastair whispered words to himself as he sat in darkness, watching the exchange going on before him.

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_**Please R+R? I haven't had too much interest in the story so I haven't been very motivated to write… Please let me know if I should continue on or not! **_


	6. Apprehensive Feelings

**Disclaimer: Don't own... **

**THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! ... To 67impalalover for helping me write this chapter and for giving me such great ideas. I'D DIE WITHOUT YOU!  
**

**Anyhow, hope you guys enjoy. Here's the next chapter!**

**Apprehensive Feelings**

Dean's phone vibrated in his pocket, he moaned in pain as he leaned over to look at his pocket. Slowly he gazed upward to check if his father had noticed.

John raised his head at the low noise, turning away from the table of knives to meet his sons gaze. He approached Dean with a grim smile and plucked the phone out of his pocket. An amused look crossed his face as he read the name that appeared on the phone. "Bobby Singer? After your big fight I would have assumed that you were no longer talking..." John hummed to himself thoughtfully. "When was the last time that you saw him?"

Dean looked down at the blood-stained concrete beneath his toes before replying quietly, "A few weeks ago."

John nodded at Dean's answer. "I was hoping that you wouldn't say that." He frowned and placed the still vibrating phone on the table beside his supplies. "Let's hope he doesn't call again."

***

Bobby shut his phone harshly, gritting his teeth impatiently. "Damn it Dean, where are you?" The last time he had heard from the young hunter had been a few weeks ago. After having a huge argument with both Winchester boys, Dean sped off in the Impala leaving Sam and himself behind.

He let out a frustrated sigh then walked into his living room, lifting a map off of the couch so he could sit in its place. After fidgeting for a moment or so, he tossed the map away from himself then dug through his pocket for his phone. 555-0179... He pounded Dean's number into his phone and anxiously awaited Dean's voice.

***

John sighed as Dean's phone started to vibrate again. The phone gradually moved towards the edge of the table; he swung his hand underneath the wood surface just in time to catch the phone. "It's Bobby. Again." He read the name, annoyed. He stuffed the phone into his own jacket pocket after it finished vibrating then picked up a knife gingerly. "Now, where were we?"

***

_Five... Six... Seven... _Bobby counted the number of rings Dean's phone had before voicemail picked up. He muttered to himself then punched another number into his phone.

"Hello?" A familiar voice answered Bobby's call.

"Sam. Are you okay?" His voice was worried.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"Are you still in River Pass?"

"River Pass? No, I left four days ago."

Bobby bit his lip. "Tell me your brother went with you."

"Uh, no. He didn't. Why?" Concern began to seep into Sam's voice.

"I've been trying to get a hold of him but he ain't answering... Why aren't you two together? I thought you made up." The elder hunter sounded angry.

"We...Thought that it would be better if we didn't hunt together anymore...Things have changed, I'm a lot different then I was before." Sam decided to change the topic after his quick explanation. "Why have you been trying to call him?"

"Well, I was tracking a demon in Denver, Colorado, and then three days ago that _one _demon turned into a_ couple dozen_ demons." Bobby informed the Winchester. He bent to pick up the map from the floor near the couch, carrying it over to the table. "All in the Denver. I called some other hunters and they said that they've noticed the pattern too. Every demon within the state seems to be heading there. I don't know what's happening, but I don't think it's good. I thought that you boys might be hanging around there for a while... That maybe you could help me." He scratched his head. "So, you don't have any idea where your brother is?"

"No." He admitted. "Try to call him again later."

"Sure. I'm going to leave for Denver in a few hours...You coming?"

The line went quiet.

"Sam?"

"I... I don't know Bobby."

"I could really use your help." The hunter pressed the youngest Winchester.

Sam frowned then sighed before continuing. "I'll be at your place tomorrow morning."

Bobby hung up without saying goodbye. He paced around his home, trying to organize his thoughts. _So Sam is coming with me, but has no idea where Dean is. This really can't be good... That boy. He never leaves his phone unattended._ He spoke aloud to himself, "Where the hell are you Dean?"

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**Thanks for reading! Let me know if you like the chapter or not... I'll try to make the next one longer! **


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